The drive out of StoreyBrook was long and quiet.

  Red sat in the backseat of Hunter’s cruiser, her eyes locked on the tree line as it thickened the farther they drove. The lights of town faded behind them, swallowed by the dark stretch of road that twisted into the forest.

  The silence wasn’t awkward—just heavy.

  None of them were sure what to say.

  Peter stole a glance at her through the rearview mirror every few minutes, pretending to check the road. Hunter didn’t bother hiding it—he glanced back once and muttered, “You okay?”

  Red gave a tight nod. “Yeah.”

  But she wasn’t. Not really.

  She didn’t know if she’d feel okay again until this was over.

  Her grandmother’s house sat nestled in a clearing surrounded by towering pines, with creeping ivy clinging to the stone walls and a soft yellow glow pouring out the front window.

  The moment Red stepped out of the car, the cool forest air hit her, filled with the smell of moss, bark, and old woodsmoke.

  The door opened before they could knock.

  “Red!”

  Her grandmother—sharp-eyed and silver-haired, wrapped in a thick cable-knit sweater—hurried down the steps and pulled her into a fierce hug.

  “You came all this way without telling me?”

  Red hugged her back, surprised by the emotion that welled in her throat.

  “Sorry, Grandma.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Don’t be sorry. Just come inside before you catch cold.”

  She looked over Red’s shoulder at the two officers. “You must be the young men who brought my girl home.”

  Peter and Hunter introduced themselves, but Red’s grandmother had already moved to shake their hands firmly.

  “Thank you. For keeping her safe.”

  “She’s tough,” Hunter said. “We’re just making sure she has a fighting chance.”

  “We’ll be stationed just a couple miles from here,” Peter added. “At the old ranger outpost. If anything feels off—anything at all—call us.”

  Her grandmother nodded, her expression turning serious. “If he comes here, he’ll regret it.”

  Red smiled faintly. Her grandma still kept a double-barrel shotgun behind the woodpile.

  She’d be fine.

  As her grandmother disappeared inside to warm up tea, Red walked Peter and Hunter back to the cruiser.

  Peter hesitated, then pulled something out of his jacket pocket.

  His personal cellphone.

  He held it out to her.

  “If anything happens… or even if nothing does. Just—don’t hesitate, okay?”

  Red took the phone gently, brushing his fingers as she did.

  “Thanks, Peter.”

  He scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to play it cool but already turning a little red.

  She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Goodnight, my sweet prince.”

  Peter’s face went scarlet.

  Hunter burst out laughing. “Oh no. He’s never recovering from that.”

  Peter started to speak—something between a protest and a stammer—but Hunter just clapped a hand on his shoulder and began guiding him back toward the car.

  “Let’s go, Romeo.”

  Peter glanced back once more as Red waved.

  Then the cruiser rumbled down the gravel path, disappearing into the dark woods.

  Inside, Red changed into warm clothes, shared a quick cup of tea with her grandmother, and caught her up on everything—well, almost everything.

  She didn’t mention the dream. Or the bloody paw print on her wall.

  She just said, “It got bad, and I needed somewhere quiet.”

  Her grandmother didn’t ask questions.

  She just said, “You’re always safe here.”

  Later that night, as her grandmother went to bed, Red opened her laptop and began searching.

  There weren’t many leads.

  But one thread caught her attention.

  A livestock registry. A name she hadn’t seen in years.

  Elliott Shepherd.

  He was working at a sheep farm, less than an hour away.

  Still in hiding. Still using that ironic alias.

  Red smirked to herself.

  She closed the laptop and leaned back in her chair, staring out the window into the dark woods beyond.

  Tomorrow, she’d find him.

  And maybe—finally—get the truth.